The Hypnotized Alpha

My first hint that something was amiss was the dead animal on the side of the road. I know, a lovely welcome on my first vacation in four months, but the poor cow couldn't help it. It was on the road to Darkwater Lake, a picturesque body of water surrounded by thousands of acres of thick, untouched wilderness and with only one entrance and exit. What could possibly go wrong?

The single road in and out of the lake was a winding, narrow path surrounded by tall, swaying pine trees. The corners were sharp enough I had to go at a snail's pace up the steep slope, and sometimes I swore the snails in the wet ditch passed me. It was late afternoon when I reached the crest of the hill and the road straightened and flattened. I first noticed the cattle truck in a pocket meant for a turnaround, and then caught sight of a small group of people a dozen yards beyond the vehicle. They stood crowded around the tailgate of a truck and looked over something that lay in it.

I slowed to a crawl and glanced out my window only to regret both decisions when my eyes fell on the cow. It was not only stone dead, but something had gone to the trouble of making it into patty slices. The poor thing was shredded better than shredded wheat. I quickly remembered that I was supposed to be watching the road and drove onward.

"Great welcome," I muttered to myself. "A wonderful start to a vacation."

My thoughts became more pleasant at my first view of the lake beyond the thinning trees on my right. The bright blue of the water flickered between the trunks and I could see a few of the cabins that surrounded the lake's edge. Darkwater Lake was a popular retreat for the wealthy, but I was in the minority. My claim to fame was that my boss really liked me and rewarded me with an annual bonus. Last year he gave me a jacuzzi, but that gift had to be returned when he learned I lived in an apartment. This year he gave me a trip to Darkwater Lake to spend two weeks at his cabin. I wasn't sure whether to thank him or quit.

I followed the curving road to a large steel-rod, double-winged gate with stone pillars on either side of the road. A small house stood off to the side and out of it shuffled a man older than Methuselah. He was short, and wore a white shirt and suspenders that kept up his dark gray pants. Every time he smacked his lips his long, white mustache twitched and danced. He had the brightest blue eyes I'd ever seen, and beneath that lip-smacking and mustache twitching was a friendly smile. On his head was a straw hat and in his wizened hands was a key chain with a single key.

He walked between my car and the gate, and over to the driver's side. "Good afternoon, miss. What can I do for you?" he inquired.

"I'm Rae Mitchell. I'm occupying Mr. Russell's cabin," I told him. Mr. Russell was my boss.

The elderly gentleman nodded his head. "I've been expecting you, Miss Mitchell. The name's Steuben. I manage the front gate here and some of the grounds, those wanting a yard, that is. Were you wanting to get on your way to the cabin or to the park?"

"I will be on my way to the cabin if you give me a map and about five hours to find it," I joked.

He chuckled and pointed at the gate. "You go through here until the fork, and then ya take it."

I blinked. "Take what?"

His mustache twitched, but he didn't lose his smile. "The joke too old? Well, never mind. You take the right path until you reach the cabin with the brown siding and roof. That'll be the one you're wanting. Are you needing a key to get in?"

"No, Mr. Russell gave me one, but thanks."

He nodded his head. "Not a problem, miss, not a problem. Now get on with you."

My eyes flickered over to the gate. The closed gate. "Um, does the gate open itself?" I asked him.

"No, why do you ask?" He followed my gaze and his eyes widened. "Would you look at that? I forgot to open the gate. It'll be just a moment, miss, and we'll get ya through." He shuffled over to the gates, unlocked the large, built-in lock between the two wings, and flung them toward me. I hurriedly backed up my car to avoid a collision of car grill and gate rods, then pulled forward. Steuben waved to me, and I waved back before I took control of the wheel and steered away from that inviting ditch.

I drove my stylish 1980s era two-door down the road and found the fork in the road. In front of me was a small park with green grass and a communal dock jutting out into the lake. There was a large, white beach that sloped into the crystal-clear waters. A narrow, gravel road led down to the water where boats could be launched from their trailers, and a sign that read only small engines were allowed on the lake. Ducks swam in the manicured weeds and a floater floated in the center of the blue water. Squirrels scampered through the green grass. I was surprised there weren't any no-squirrels-allowed signs.

I turned the car down the right lane and entered a showcase of cabins that would have looked shabby only among European castles. There were decks the size of my apartment and ponds connected to the lake that you could hide a hippo beneath the surface. Some cabins were covert enough to have only two stories, but a few went all-out with three. The only reason none of them had a basement was the lake would have constantly flooded it. They were spaced fifty yards apart, but between them were parks of green grass and thick, tall trees.

The road led in a circle around the circular lake and past the fancy houses to the far side of the lake. I watched for the brown cabin with the brown roof, but there was one problem; most of the cabins had brown roofs and siding. They wanted to blend the mansions in with the environment, but it was like slapping paint on a squirrel and calling it an alpaca. My only hope were the cars in the gravel driveways. My cabin wouldn't be occupied unless a hobo managed to break in and make himself at home.

I found a cabin with the requirements nearly opposite the entrance. The cabin was only a square, single story structure, but the grounds were green with grass and the driveway was well-maintained. I parked my car and stepped out. The scent of pine trees and clean water wafted into my nose, and I took a deep breath. I choked and spat out the fly I inhaled. Ah, wilderness.

I grabbed my suitcase from the trunk and made it to the simple, covered wraparound porch before one of the natives approached from the woods. She was a middle-aged woman in a dress so white it would have blended in with a snowstorm. Her fingers were covered in jewels and her wrist with golden bracelets that shimmered with all the precious gems stuck in them. I was nearly blinded by the dazzling light which made me unable to flee into the cabin.

"Hello there! I don't think I know your face," the woman called out.

I shielded my eyes from her shining jewelery and blinked. "And I don't think I can see yours," I murmured.

"What was that?" she asked me as she came up to me.

"I don't think you'd know mine," I rephrased. I held out my hand. "My name is Rae Mitchell. I'm Mr. Russell's secretary."

The woman smiled and eagerly shook my hand. "Mr. Russell told us to expect you. I hope Steuben wasn't too much of a bother. His heart's in the right place, but sometimes his mind isn't with him."

"I got in fine," I told her.

The woman gasped and her hand flew to her face. "But where are my manners? I haven't introduced myself. My name is Mrs. Ava Lee Santos, wife to Lucas Lee Santos, the clothes industrialist. I'm the greeting committee for the lake owners."

"Um, nice to meet you," I replied. I had no idea who her husband or she was, but through her clothing and diamonds she told the world they were rich or in debt.

"We've been told you've taken the cabin for a few weeks, and just at the right time. We're having our annual fireworks and picnic in a few days, and everyone in the cabins is invited."

"Um, I don't know. I just got here and I'll-"

"Oh, but you can't say no. Everyone will be there, and I'm sure they'll love to meet you," she insisted.

"But I don't know anyone," I protested.

She waved aside my worries with a wave of her sparkling hand. "Nonsense, you must come and I won't take no for an answer. Now say you'll come and I'll go away." That was an offer I couldn't refuse, and I could duck out of the picnic with a headache excuse.

"I guess I could go there for a few minutes just to meet everyone," I reluctantly agreed.

Ava's face burst open with a wide grin. "Marvelous! Until then I'll see you around. Ta-ta!" She waved her fingers at me and skipped back from whence she came.

I sighed and turned back to the cabin. "Well, this is an interesting start. I can't wait to see the other neighbors."

I walked to the door and breathed a sigh of relief when the key worked. I stepped inside and surveyed the surroundings. There were real wood floors, stainless-steel appliances, and furniture that looked hand-crafted and more expensive than a New York City penthouse. The three bedrooms and two baths were in the rear behind a hallway wall, and to my right was the kitchen and dining room. To my left was the open living room with a large wraparound couch that flanked a wide flat screen TV.

However, there were a few signs that this was a cabin and not a luxury house. For one, a bunch of dead animals stared at me from the walls. They were stuffed heads from Mr. Russell's many hunting trips around the area. I was greeted by the unblinking eyes of moose, deer, coyotes, and cougars. Contrary to the name of the lake, there was no wolf. Another sign of the wilderness was the large fireplace to my far left and the gun over the mantle. It was a single-barrel rifle, and judging by its polished, faded wood looked to be quite old but still serviceable.

I gingerly walked along the floors and looked through the bedrooms for the plainest one, or at least the one with the fewest priceless valuables to accidentally break. That turned out to be the one to the farthest right, and I unpacked my clothes into the seventeenth-century dresser drawers and lay my coat on the four-poster wood bed of the same era.

The sun was setting by the time I cooked some steak from the freezer and stepped out onto the rear part of the porch. It had a great view of the shimmering lake as the wind calmed. The surface was like a giant mirror that reflected the blue skies and white, fluffy clouds. The cabin had a long dock that stretched out twenty feet into the lake, and like the rest of the bank there was an inviting white sandy beach.

I walked down the stone path and stepped onto the dock. It was as sturdy as a bomb shelter and clacked beneath my shoes as I strode the fifteen yards to the end. I knelt down and leaned over the edge over the water and looked into the depths. The bottom was ten feet below me, but the water was so clean it looked like I could dive in and stand up. I brushed my fingers over the surface and was glad to feel the water wasn't too cold.

A noise caught my attention. I turned and watched a car drive along the road past my cabin. In the driver's seat was a suited gentleman of about forty with dark spectacles and pursed lips. Beside him I caught a glimpse of another man, but the shadows were too deep for me to ascertain his looks. They drove onward, but slowed and pulled into the driveway of the cabin beside mine. While the lawn around the neighboring cabin was green with grass, the building itself was rustic. Old logs made up the walls and a thick stone chimney rose up from the moss-covered roof. A small rear porch was the architectural highlight of the structure.

The men stepped out and I could hear them talk to one another, but couldn't make out the words. I noticed movement out of the corner of my eyes and turned to see Mrs. Lee Santos scurry out of her cabin beside mine. She hurried across what was, at least for the time being, my lawn and over to the neighboring cabin. The two men were still unpacking what appeared to be groceries when she jumped them. I still couldn't hear what they said, but the gentlemen smiled at her and her laugh echoed down to me.

Then Lee Santos hurried off and waved to me on the way by. I waved back and looked to the neighboring cabin, but the men had gone inside. Their lights were turned on, reminding me that if I didn't want to bump into a priceless antique I'd need to get my own lights clicked. I returned to the cabin, but was so tired I bagged the idea of the lights and went to bed.

The morning sun shown into my room and into my face. I scrunched up my face and buried it beneath a pillow, but my internal alarm clock shooed sleep away and told me it was time to wake up. I sighed and raised my head to look at the clock I'd brought. Seven in the morning. Sometimes I really hated myself.

I slipped out of bed, realized the temperature was just a smidge above freezing and a little below cool, and wrapped myself in the lowest bed sheet. I shuffled into the kitchen, put a pot of coffee on the machine, and sat down to contemplate the woodwork in the table until my wake-up juice was ready. There were two windows in the dining room, one at the front of the house and the other on the right side. I sat at the head of the table with my back to the kitchen and noticed the curtains were drawn and the front window had a good view of the road.

A figure strode down the road toward the men's cabin. He was a handsome man of about thirty-five with dark black hair and a clean-shaven face. The man walked with a confident gate and wore a dark ensemble of a t-shirt, pants and shoes. The road was about thirty-yards from the window and I sat ten feet from the front of the cabin, but the man paused and stared inside and straight at me. He smiled and waved at me. I sheepishly smiled and gave a weak wave back, and he thankfully walked onward. I'd just met the mystery man in the neighboring cabin.

My coffee was ready and after breakfast I dressed for an exploration of the lake. I stepped outside and inwardly groaned when I noticed Mrs. Lee Santos hurry toward me. She always seemed to be in a rush to talk to everyone.

"Good morning, Miss Mitchell! I have no doubt you slept well on our quiet lake," she greeted me.

"Like a log," I replied.

Lee Santos's eyes flitted over to the neighboring cabin and she lowered her voice. "Did you happen to see our handsome gentlemen in the Brooks cabin?"

"I did notice them last night. Do they own it?" I wondered.

"Oh yes. The Brooks family has owned that cabin since before any of the others were built. The dark-haired gentleman, his name is WillMason Brooks, he's the current owner and comes up here for some quiet time away from his traveling. He arrived here a few days ago and plans on staying for at least the month."

"So his business takes him away a lot?" I guessed.

Lee Santos laughed. "No, my dear. Will is quite rich. He hardly needs to lift a finger and he makes millions. No, he spends his time traveling. I've heard he's had quite his share of adventures in Africa and Eastern Europe."

"So he doesn't come here much?" I asked her.

"Once every few years, but this is the first time he's come around for our annual party, at least since he was a boy." She squealed and clapped her hands. "It will be such fun to have him among the ladies. He's quite the charmer, and his companion is very polite. The most regal servant I've ever seen. I asked Will where I might find one and he said only in the deepest parts of Eastern Europe. You see, the companion's a foreigner, a Mr. Dmitri Tyler. Isn't that such a funny name?"

"A very unusual last name," I agreed.

"Well, I must be off. There are other friends to see and so much to plan for the party. Oh, before I forget." She pulled a slip of paper from her purse and handed it to me. "The itinerary for the party. Ta-ta!" She gave her farewell and scampered off.

I glanced at the paper and saw it had the date and time for the picnic party along with what was being served. I was pleasantly surprised to find that hot dogs and other summer fare would be served along with a side dish of caviar and wine for drink. There was something about a wolf hunt that intrigued me, but there weren't any particulars that told me what it entailed. I pocketed the paper and walked to the road. The road led left and right, and I decided on the left. It would lead me past the Brooks cabin, and I was curious to catch a better glimpse of my neighbors.

I leisurely strode by the cabin and caught my first look at the front. There was a small step in front of an old wooden door, and I could see that the rock foundation disappeared into the dirt. Like my cabin there were windows looking out on the road, but the heavy curtains were closed. The car was parked in the driveway, but I didn't see anyone around the front or back. The cabin had a dock much like mine, but narrower and older. An oar-powered boat sat in the water with the rope wrapped around a post connected to the dock. I was disappointed not to see anyone, but I had other sights to see.

The road wound its way leisurely around the lake and I with it. The weather was warm now, but the trees provided shade and a cool breeze swept off the lake and refreshed the air. All the cabins were occupied, some with couples, but others with children. Their toys were strewn about the yards, but the day was too early for them to be prancing around just yet.

In an hour I reached the public park behind the rules sign. There were a few people setting a boat into the water for some morning fishing and others sat at the picnic tables that dotted the grass. Thick-trunked old pine trees provided shade as I strode down to the water. On the right side of the large dock was a roped off beach for families to enjoy the water without fear of boats knocking into them.

I stood at the edge of the water, closed my eyes, and wrapped my arms around myself. The cool breeze of the lake brushed over me like a soft lover's kiss and the corner's of my mouth twitched up in a smile of contentment. Maybe I wouldn't be killing my boss after all. In fact, I wouldn't mind stay there all summer enjoying the view, the smells, and even the neighbors. Alas, my food stock wouldn't last that long and my vacation was only for two weeks.

"It's a magnificent view, isn't it?" My eyes shot open and I turned my head to find the dark-haired gentleman standing beside me. His gaze looked out on the lake, but he turned and smiled at me. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," he apologized.

"I-I wasn't startled," I stuttered. He raised an eyebrow, and I shrugged. "I guess I was a little startled," I admitted.

He held out his hand. "WillMason Brooks. I've been told we're to be neighbors for two weeks." Thanks, Mrs. Lee Santos.

"Rae Mitchell," I returned, and shook his head. He had a tough grip for a playboy. Must have worked out a lot. "So what brings you to the lake around this time?"

He chuckled. "I see Mrs. Lee Santos is as good at telling others about me as she is at telling me about others."

"She didn't give too many specifics. I don't know your weight and height," I teased.

"Five-eleven, and one-hundred and eighty," he told me.

I nodded approvingly. "Not bad, but you still haven't answered my question."

"I see you know how to focus," he commented.

"It's a useful skill when you're juggling eight different tasks at the same time for the president of a large company," I pointed out.

"If you must know, I thought I'd see the festivities. I haven't been to the annual celebration in quite a few years, and wondered if it had changed much," he revealed.

"Is it really that exciting?" I asked him.

"It can be with the fireworks, and of course the Wolf Hunt the day after," he replied.

I furrowed my brow. That was mentioned in the pamphlet. "Wolf hunt? Are there still wolves around here?" I wondered.

He chuckled and shook his head. "No, not anymore. I remember my father telling me about them, but the last time one was seen was forty years ago. The Wolf Hunt is a reminder of the days when the wolves were thick and people used to hunt them for their pelts. It's a sort of hide-and-seek game played at sunset. Anyone can join, and six people volunteer to be the Hunters. The others are the wolves, and they hide in the woods above the road close to our cabins. When everyone is ready the Hunters comb the woods looking for the wolves, and tag them. When a wolf is tagged they lose and join the spectators on the road. The last wolf to be tagged is the winner."

"And very lonely. What's a wolf to do without a mate?" I mused.

His eyes brushed over me and there was a strange glint in them. "What, indeed? To be the last wolf would be very lonely, but the game can be played several times, so long as it isn't too dark when the last game finishes," he replied.

"It sounds like fun. Maybe I'll join in," I commented.

"As a Hunter or a Wolf?" he wondered.

I shrugged. "Maybe I'll try both sides just to see what each one is thinking," I suggested.

He smiled. "A very philosophical answer."

"It's more fun if you try everything, anyway," I pointed out.

Brooks chuckled. "You have a very interesting view of the world. It's a pity more don't have it," he complimented me.

I glanced past him and grinned. "I think Mrs. Lee Santos would be willing to try being a Hunter. She's pretty good at tracking down everyone on the lake." Brooks followed my gaze and sighed. Mrs. Lee Santos was headed straight for us from her car parked in the parking lot near the fork. She wore a large sunbonnet and thick sunglasses, and had a long cigarette clenched between her fingers.

"How funny! I was just looking for both of you, and here you are!" she greeted us.

"Good morning, Mrs. Lee Santos," Brooks returned.

She wrinkled her nose and waved her hand. "None of that formality, Will. I've known you too long to have you call me Mrs. Lee Santos. It's Ava to you, and to you, too, Miss Mitchell," she added as she turned to me. "Besides, Mrs. Lee Santos makes me feel older, and I'm hardly past fifty." She looked well over sixty.

Will bowed his head to her. "Very well, Ava."

"That's better." She paused and frowned. "Now why did I come here? Oh yes! With your two cabins being the closest to the Wolf Hunt area I was wondering if you two could help set up the perimeters." She leaned toward me and giggled. "Has this flirtatious rascal told you about the Wolf Hunt?"

"He has," I told her.

"Good, now I'm sure you'll accept my plea for help," she replied.

"I'd be delighted," Brooks accepted. They both turned to me.

"Sure, I can help," I agreed.

Ava clapped her hands. "Wonderful!" She reached into her purse and pulled out a small bundle of colored flags on metal rods and a piece of paper. "These need to be placed along the border, and here's the map for where we want them put." I took the flags and Brooks took the map.

Brooks opened it and looked over the area. He raised an eyebrow and glanced over the map at Ava. "This is quite large," he commented.

Ava smiled and nodded. "Yes, we have quite a few families attending this year and we want to make sure everyone has a good hiding spot."

I leaned toward Brooks and inspected the map. The square area was about the size of four football fields. "I hope I won't get lost," I joked.

Ava laughed. "Nonsense! Not with Will here. Why, when he was a young lad he used to go out for hours wandering the woods. Said he felt more at home in the trees than in the cabin."

"I just liked climbing," Brooks protested.

"Well, don't go putting any of the flags in the trees. We need them on the ground where everyone can see them," she scolded. She glanced at her watch and gasped. "Look at the time! I have to see how the ladies are doing on their dishes!"

"Dishes?" I asked her.

"For the picnic dinner. We have a few volunteers making the salads and such. Nothing big. The men have the big job of cooking the hamburgers and hot dogs," Ava explained. "Now if you will excuse me I must see how they're all doing. Ta-ta!" She hurried off to oversee the operations.

I glanced down at the bundle of flags in my hand, and then up at the man by my side. "I hope you still know your way around the place," I commented.

He smiled and shrugged. "I guess we'll see," he returned.

I frowned. "That doesn't give me comfort."

"I'm afraid it doesn't make me feel very comfortable, either, but if we should get lost I offer myself as emergency rations," he told me.

I looked him up and down. He was well-built with a lot of muscle and not much fat. "I think you'd be a little chewy," I told him.

He chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment, but shall we start placing the flags? If the brush is thick this might take a while."

We made our way back to our side of the lake. There was silence between us for a while, and I took the opportunity to cast glances at the handsome dark man. "You're not used to talking with men, are you?" he asked me.

I blushed and stared at the ground. "I don't really have too much experience in idle chat with them," I admitted.

"Then maybe I should start the conversation. Ava told me you are the secretary for Alfred Russell. How do you like working for him?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "It's a living."

"And not a bad one?" he guessed.

I smiled and glanced up at him. "Well, this is my vacation gift from him. Two weeks in the woods."

"No raise?" he wondered.

"No, but he pays me well already."

"And how long do you plan on being his secretary?" Brooks asked me.

"As long as he needs me. I don't really think I can find better," I replied. I slyly looked to him. "Unless you happen to know someone who needs a secretary."

His eyes twinkled. "That depends on the secretary," he returned.

"I happen to have very good credentials, Mr. Brooks," I replied.

"Will, if you please, Miss Mitchell. Like Ava, the name Mr. Brooks makes me feel old," he told me.

"Then it's Rae for me. I don't answer to the name Miss Mitchell unless I'm in my work clothes," I answered.

Will smiled. "Then I've learned a very valuable bit of information from you," he commented.

I raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"That there's no Mr. Mitchell."

I snorted. "There's not even a Mr. Boyfriend," I told him.

"Really? No interest?" he wondered.

I shook my head. "No time. Mr. Russell keeps me very busy."

"But you're not busy at this moment," he pointed out.

"Not yet, but I will be when we start planting these flags," I pointed out.

He chuckled. "So long as the trails are still there it shouldn't be such a chore."